


Rocky Rewards

by pikasafire



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 15:10:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5875627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikasafire/pseuds/pikasafire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not that Cullen owes Dorian for saving his life or anything, but Dorian <i>does</i> have a small request.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rocky Rewards

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's a kmeme fill and it's not very kinky, but... any fic is better than no fic, right?

The first Dorian knows of Cullen falling is a sick crack from behind him as Cullen's head strikes a rock. Dorian turns just in time to see a Red Templar standing over Cullen's limp body, its crystallised arm raised to strike a fatal blow.

Dorian doesn't think twice, sending an arc of lightning straight to the Red Templar's chest, abandoning the second Templar as he jumps to Cullen's aid, putting himself between Cullen's body and the Templar. Cullen's not moving, and Dorian tries _really_ hard not to be distracted, pouring more mana into his spells in an effort to end this as quickly as possible. The Red Templar surges forward, overwhelming in its size and strength and Dorian blocks a hit with his staff, ducks quickly to avoid being skewered by a shard of red lyrium

Movement behind him and Dorian can't resist looking, flooded with relief as he sees Cullen stirring. It's just the moment of distraction the Templar needs and Dorian leaps backwards as a sharp edge of lyrium swipes across his chest, painful enough that Dorian immediately knows he's bleeding. "Fuck." He hisses, countering another swipe and sending a fireball with his free hand. He can see Cullen out of the corner of his eye, struggling to sit up. "Stay down!" Dorian snaps, turning his head a little. "Commander! Stay down!"

"I'm fine." Cullen slurs, and Dorian feels a sharp panic in his chest. Cullen's drawing attention, a clear weak point on the battlefield as he pulls himself to his feet, stumbling.

"Stay! Down!" Dorian shouts, furiously parrying a hit. He can see two more Templars heading their way and Cullen stumbles, falls to his knees, his sword clattering from loose fingers. They need help and they need it _now_. A final bolt from Dorian's staff shatters the Templar in front of him, but there's more coming and he can't take on two on his own and protect Cullen at the same time.

A saviour appears in sight, and Dorian's heart leaps. "Bull!" Dorian shouts over, "Some help for the mage here?" He uses the few second of reprieve he has to shift to Cullen's side, pressing on Cullen's shoulder to keep him kneeling. "Stay _down_."

The Templars are fast approaching and Dorian gives Cullen's shoulder a squeeze before stepping in front of him again, shielding him from sight the best he can. "Come on," Dorian taunts the closest Templar, "I can do this all day." He's relieved to see that Cullen is staying put, even as he sways worryingly on his knees.

Dorian's not great in close combat, preferring to stay in the shadows, shooting stealthy spells from afar. Not an option this time. He deflects the Templar's stab the best he can, casting the cone of cold to give himself a moment to breathe. Bull crashes into the battle, swinging his axe with abandon and shattering the Templar where he stands, "Next!" He bellows. He shoots a grin at Dorian. "I got this, mage-boy. Tend to the Commander." Somehow, even in the midst of battle, Bull makes it sound dirty and Dorian laughs, more out of relief than anything else, finally feeling safe enough to turn his back and check Cullen properly.

"Commander?" Dorian kneels in front of him, only now seeing the blood trickling through Cullen's hair. Cullen doesn't respond, and Dorian touches him gently, tilts his head up to see his face. "Cullen?"

Cullen opens his eyes at the touch, though they remain unfocused. "Head hurts." He manages to get out, sounding like he's talking though a mouthful of wool.

"I bet it does." Dorian agrees, "The Inquisitor has potions that'll set you right. I'd say you've given your brains a good scrambling on that rock."

"Rock." Cullen agrees, clearly disorientated.

Dorian tries not to laugh, "Let me see your head." He says, tilting Cullen's head forward to see the matted mess at the back of his skull. Dorian pokes at it, murmuring a quiet apology at Cullen's quiet hiss of pain. Nothing seems to be broken, but Dorian isn't going to mess with head injuries. Best to leave it for the potions rather than botching it with a terrible healing spell. "You've certainly done a good job of it."

"Thanks." Cullen mumbles.

Dorian snorts, "Alright, come on." He can still hear fighting behind him, and he manoeuvres Cullen so Cullen's lying down, his head cushioned in Dorian's lap. "I'm letting you bleed on my robes." Dorian point out unnecessarily, more to break the silence than any expectation of Cullen following the conversation. "No one can say I don't give my all to the Inquisition." Cullen's eyes are closed and Dorian taps his cheek, trying not to seem as concerned as he feels, "Come on, Commander. Eyes open. You're not allowed to sleep on the battlefield. You'll set a bad example."

"Battlefield?" Cullen asks, a moment of lucidity, and he struggles to sit up for a moment, prevented by Dorian's firm hand on his chest.

"Bull's got it." Dorian assures him. "It's over." Mostly, anyway. Dorian can only see two more of the bastards, and Bull seems to be having the time of his life.

Cullen winces. "Something hit me."

"A rock." Dorian says, helpfully. "You already mentioned that."

"Mm." Cullen relaxes back against Dorian. "Tired."

"I know. You're not allowed to sleep." Dorian reminds him. "Not yet." The adrenaline of the battle is fading and Dorian's feeling pretty damn tired himself. His chest stings and Dorian pokes at it, only just seeing the massive tear across his robes, a nasty slash sluggishly bleeding beneath. Well. There's yet another set of robes destroyed in the name of the Inquisition - Dorian reminds himself to blame Cullen anyway. The injury doesn't seem life threatening, but it hurts like hell now that the adrenaline is fading.

Dorian doesn't realise Cullen's eyes are open until clumsy fingers brush where his own press against the gash. "You're hurt." Cullen mumbles.

"You're hurt worse." Dorian points out. "I'm fine."

"I'm fine too."

"I can sit up." Dorian points out. "You can't. I win."

Cullen huffs a quiet laugh then groans. "Dizzy."

"You've already bled on me." Dorian warns, "If you vomit on me, I'm leaving you here."

"You wouldn't."

Later, Dorian is going to blame exhaustion, Cullen's scrambled brains, _anything_ other than a moment of his own insanity when he says, "You're right. You're too pretty to leave behind." Cullen has closed his eyes again, and Dorian reaches out, brushing a piece of bloody hair away from Cullen's face.

"You think I'm pretty?"

Dorian is thankfully saved from answering by the shadow of Bull falling over them. "Still alive?" Bull asks, reaching a hand out. "Want me to take the Commander?"

"I c'n walk." Cullen insists.

"He can't." Dorian says to Bull. He shifts, hissing a little as his own injury pulls sharply. "Yeah, you take him. Where's the Inquisitor?"

"Headed back to camp. We ran out of potions. She'll meet us there."

Cullen groans as Bull lifts him as gently as he can. "Maker."

"You can vomit on _him_ ," Dorian tells him, trying to hide his own wince as he stands. He would really like a bath. And a nap. Who thought this quest was a good idea anyway? He tries to keep his mind of how miserable he is rather than the fact he just told the Commander of the inquisition that he's _pretty_. Not that it's a lie. At least it's pretty safe that Cullen certainly will _not_ remember it tomorrow. It seems like an interminable walk back to camp. Through hills and wet grass, which is certainly Dorian's least favourite type of grass, though he supposes most grass is nasty up close - full of dirt and bugs and damp. It's not until the wet grass in question comes rushing at his face in an alarming manner than Dorian thinks that perhaps his little cut is a little worse than he thought

*

Dorian wakes up warm and dry and undercover, which is a blessing in itself. It takes him a few moments to realise where he is, the dirty white of an inquisition medic tent above his head and the taste of elfroot in his mouth. He sits up and looks down at himself, a dirty bandage wrapped around his chest. "Ow."

"Awake now?"

Dorian turns fast enough that his wound pulls and he winces. "Kaffas!"

"Sorry." Cullen doesn't look sorry at all, sitting on the edge of a cot next to Dorian's, close enough that when Dorian sits on the edge of the bed to face him, their knees almost brush. "Are you okay?"

"Never better." Dorian says through gritted teeth, holding a palm tight to his bandage. "Yourself?"

"Never better." Cullen echoes with a smile. "I have a hard head. It seems I owe you for saving my life back there."

"Ah yes." Dorian says, aiming for levity, "Saved you from that nasty rock."

"And a few Red Templars." Cullen points out, apparently unwilling to let Dorian downplay his part.

Dorian shrugs, uncomfortable. Normally he's fine with people singing his praises, but this feels strange. Everything about Cullen makes Dorian feel strange, "And those too, I suppose."

Cullen must sense his discomfort, because he gives a tiny little half smile, "You wouldn't want my pretty face to be damaged, after all."

Fuck. Dorian's not sure if he's more surprised that the commander is making a _joke_ , or that, fuck it all, Cullen somehow remembers the conversation. And is he... _flirting_?

"...I was clearly delusional." Dorian tries, but the silence has stretched for long enough that it sounds weak, the joke flat between them. Dorian scrambles for a fix as Cullen's little smile disappears.

"Sorry." Cullen says hastily, "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"Wouldn't want an unattractive commander." Dorian says at the same time, trying to make it less awkward, "Leliana and Josie would have my head if I took away their war-room eye candy." Deflecting away from his own attraction, yes, good cover. Fuck. Was Cullen actually flirting? Did Dorian just miss a chance?

They both lapse into silence, trying to decipher what the other said and then sitting, unsure of what to say.

"Well." Cullen says after a pause. "I'm glad you're alright. I owe you."

Dorian has been part of more uncomfortable conversations, he's sure, but this has got to be in his top five, and in another moment of insanity, the words slip from his mouth before he can stop them, "You can owe me a kiss instead." Maker, what is he _thinking_? Cullen looks just as stunned as Dorian feels. "... Or not." Dorian adds.

Cullen stands. Dorian can see that he's not entirely steady, and stripped of his armour, Cullen seems smaller, more fragile. Dorian can't quite bring himself to look up, staring at Cullen's feet idly thinking that he's never seen Cullen's toes before. Not without boots on them anyway. Cullen's toes stop only a few millimetres from Dorian's own.

"Dorian."

Can't avoid this one, can he? He can only hope Cullen doesn't punch him _too_ hard. Cullen's an ex-Templar, Ferelden farm boy who commands an army. What would he possibly want with a Tevinter mage with daddy issues?

Fingers under his chin. Dorian looks up and then there's a mouth on his own. He makes a little noise of surprise in the back of his throat and before he can even comprehend that Cullen is _kissing him_ , Cullen pulls away, a smirk on his face. "Debt paid."

"Wait-" Dorian protests, not willing to give this chance, whatever it is, up, "I wasn't ready!"

Cullen laughs, low in his chest, and Dorian helplessly tries not to just grab him and kiss him senseless. "That wasn't part of your conditions." Cullen teases. "You saved me from a Red Templar. I gave you a kiss."

"I saved you from the rock too." Dorian points out. He relaxes a little. Flirting, he can do that.

"Fair enough." Cullen says, leaning down to kiss him again. Dorian is prepared this time, sliding his hand around the back of Cullen's neck, pulling him in close. If this is going to be the only time Dorian gets to kiss him, he's going to make it count. He keeps Cullen close when he breaks the kiss.

"The templars," Dorian points out breathlessly. "Now, there was a good _fifty_ of them."

"Fifty, hmm." Cullen says, grinning down at Dorian. He moves his hands to Dorian's hips, nudging him to move up the bed before climbing on Dorian's narrow cot with him. "Well, I wouldn't want my debts to go unpaid."

"People would talk." Dorian agrees. "And the people have to trust their commander."

Cullen just laughs, and kisses him again.

END


End file.
